Each week I write these VPAs to practice asking for what I want. And to get clarity on what that really is, even when asking feels conflicted.

I always get useful information about my relationship with various aspects of the ask. Join in if you like!

Well, my big VPA for this week was going to be about chopping my hair off, but then I did that over the weekend.

Let’s see. Hello, wanting what I want. Hello, week.

Thing 1: More yoga during Rally.

Here’s what I want:

Tonight is Erev Rally and we are welcoming in Rally (Rally!), and this is wonderful because Rally is my favorite thing in the world.

Rally #17!

You know what? It used to be that during Rally I’d get way more yoga than in a normal week because we do old Turkish lady stretching all the time and then I usually do an hour of asana in the afternoon.

But lately (thanks to past Very Personal Ads), I’ve been back to having much more yoga in my life, and now I’m finding myself wanting to make sure there will be enough time for physical practice.

Ways this could work:

Candlelight yoga on Toozday night after the Evening Chicken at Rally — people can join in or not, as they like.

Maybe I’ll get in a practice during my entry rituals this afternoon….

I don’t know where else I can make an opening.

But maybe just more consciously Filling Out Forms (my secret agent code for doing a posture here and there, literally filling out the form.)

And of course, asking the Director what she knows about this.

I’ll play with…

The intention to create opening.

In whatever ways show up.

Thing 2: Support with grant proposals.

Here’s what I want:

Last week I held an Enthusiastic at the Playground to talk about the gigantic new and expanded Playground that we’re opening in April.

We’ll be doing lots of fun community projects there, and Cynthia suggested that we apply for some local business/community-development grants.

I know NOTHING about this!

So I need someone who could give us an idea of what we could be applying for. My partner-in-crime said she’d take a stab at writing a proposal if she could look at a sample proposal or get advice from someone who does this regularly.

Ways this could work:

Maybe someone here? Maybe someone coming to a Rally?

Maybe there’s a perfect simple solution that’s waiting to show up and I don’t even know what it looks like.

I’ll play with…

I’m throwing the entire concept into the pot for now, and asking for the right person/situation to make themselves known.

Thing 3: changes to Pirate Queen headquarters.

Here’s what I want:

Whenever the magical nymphs come to clean the Playground (they borrow costumes from our Costumery — it’s awesome!), I look regretfully at my quarters and wish they weren’t such a mess.

I’ve made wishes about SPACE and wishes about CONGRUENCE.

Here’s what I want:

This space is for the Directory and needs to be worthy of the Director. I don’t know how that can happen but I do know that the next time the space is about to be cleaned, I don’t want to be ruefully shaking my head again.

So I guess my ask is about the internal investigation: what needs to change in my relationship with this space?

Ways this could work:

Well, Shiva Nata, of course. That’s probably the fastest way to make stuff happen.

Also stone skippings and writing an OOD.

I’ll play with…

Spending time in that room and finding out what it wants to be.

Thing 4: {SILENT RETREAT!}

Here’s what I want:

I’m calling silent retreat on this one, but it has to do with possibility, spaciousness, flow, receptivity, grace.

Ways this could work:

I don’t know yet but I will find out during Rally!

I’ll play with…

Investigating my relationship with the qualities and finding out what I’m done with.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.

Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.

I wanted help coordinating the giant project of cleaning and painting the new Playground space, and we’re making progress on that. Though I still need TONS of help.

Then I wanted progress on the B&B&B, and something is cooking. Wishing!

I wanted to talk about context, and that happened.

Answers needed to be written, and they got half-written, which is progress. I hadn’t realized how much stuff I had around this, so that was interesting.

My wish for easy speediness happened! My roller derby wish half-happened.

But mainly I got to have a week where I felt capable, and that’s what most of these asks were about, under the surface. So that’s where I’m playing, under the surface.

Play-filled comment zen. Here’s what I’d love today.

• Wanted: Your own personal ads, small or large. Updates on past ones if you like.
• You can also do these on your own or in your head. You can always call silent retreat!
• Leave your gwishes! Throw things in the pot!
• Things we try to keep away from: the word “manifest”, telling people how they should be asking for things, unsolicited advice.
• VPA amnesty applies, of course. Leave yours any time between now and next Sunday (or whenever, really) — it’s all fine by us!

xox

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Very Personal Ads #120: I hardly even know her? No one should laugh at that.
• Very Personal Ads #117: channeling the pegacorn
• Hello, September

And you get to join in if you feel like it.

The hard stuff

Accidental Zombie Day.

The day when my brain stopped functioning, and everything was fog.

Overbooking myself.

Again!

Still in pain about something from then.

Well, about something from last week that is reminding me of then.

Now is not then. Now is not then. Now is not then.

Friday.

Huge fight with someone I love.

We worked it out. Quickly, even.

But so horrible while it was happening.

Expectations.

Mine. Other people’s.

Bleargh.

Feeling frustrated.

There’s a pattern I’m working with, and it’s taking a lot of time.

Also something looked like a blinking red light and turned out not to be, and that was disorienting.

Avoiding my local.

Usually Twitter is my local pub, and my favorite place to pop by for silliness and happy chatter.

This week I just couldn’t be there.

Which might be a good thing, but I was sad about it.

Goodbye, Ruth.

I just received news that one of our people, Ruth Brand Lederer, passed away peacefully this week at her home in Zurich.

Some of you might know her from the comments section.

Anyway, she was a lovely person. Hug a furry animal for her!

And may her memory be for a blessing.

The good stuff

Direction from the Director…

The Director tells me all sorts of useful things. But lately she’s been guiding everything.

Over the weekend she suggested that I head to a certain store. Which street to take. And exactly when to leave the house.

Also which corner to turn.

Turning that corner at that exact moment resulted in a marvelous and hugely unexpected gift for the new Playground.

And then when I got to the store, they were having a giant one-day sale. Furnishings for the new Playground!

Then Danielle was able to come with the car and help. The First Mate got a recommendation for something he needed. We met someone we needed to meet.

All from listening to the director. It’s been amazing.

And the whole week has been like that. She tells me and I listen.

Progress progress progress.

Meeting even more of the Playground neighbors and really liking them.

Picking out paint colors. Buying the paint.

Systems. Structures. Resources. Allies. A plan for the new stage. A lighting scheme. Ideas!

It’s all coming together.

Oh, and there are now seven different people who want to rent out our new treatment room.

I can’t even tell you how overjoyed I am about this.

An incredibly useful meeting with Cairene.

We figured out all sorts of important systems things.

Plus I have learned a thing (the hard way) and am finally finally finally not doing the thing that always backfires.

Living the way I want to live.

These past two weeks have been closer to the life that I imagine than anything else.

Walking each morning. Glow-sitting (shhh, meditating!) each morning. Dance. Mini-marathon-trainings all day (shhh, it’s really resting!). Yoga every evening.

And then having three ridiculously productive and creative hours packed in the middle.

So I’m getting more done, but spending way less time doing it. Playing, not working. Having more fun. And I’m humming my happy hum.

THIS is the thing I’ve been working towards for the past seven years, and for it to be actually happening feels amazing. I never would have been able to do this if it weren’t for Rally (Rally!).

Because that’s where I’ve learned about how to make time magic. And how to follow the rabbitholes and be willing to be surprised. I’m now living Rally. And it’s the most incredible thing that has ever happened to me.

Twelve.

Twelve years without sugar.

Sleep is mostly back on track, and I am extraordinarily happy about this.

Yay!

I only had one rough night this week. It feels like everything is easing back to normal.

Enthusiastic & Play Day at the Playground.

On Toozday we had an all-day play day at the Playground Caboose, which is what we’re calling the original Playground.

First we ran an Enthusiastic and I told everyone my plans and they were enthused! And we said YAY YAY YAY YAY YAY. And we sang pirate-ey songs.

Then we visited the new space and I gave everyone a tour.

And then we had lunch and played all afternoon.

It was amazing.

Bout night!

This Saturday night.

My Guns N Rollers are going to kill it.

I’ll be doing the shivanautical warm up. And maybe some of you will be there too?

Playing live at the meme beach house — it’s the Fake Band of the Week!

Background? Ez and I make up bands. Stu (retired Bolshevik-fearing voice-to-text software) once translated “people will hate me and be jealous” to “they’ll hang out at my Meme Beach House“. It’s just one guy.

This week’s band is a fun one.

Good Day For Frogs

I’m going to invite them to play a show at the new Playground. Because ohmygod you guys the new Playground is big enough that we can have shows there!

Though, of course, it’s really just one guy.

A request for the new Playground!

We’re looking for pieces of cloth in shades of blues, greens and purples.

Ideally about a square foot in size. Or a foot in length and then half that in width? But whatever, bigger, smaller, whatever you have. Cutting up old t-shirts could work too.

It’s for a craft-ey project that will turn into a ceiling treatment for one of the rooms in the new space. If you have blues, greens and purples to contribute, we will be happy for them.

Our mailing address is:

The Fluent Self, Inc
1526 NE Alberta #218
Portland, OR 97211

And if you’re in Portland, we’ll be having a bunch of community painting party weekends that we’ll be having in March. So if you want to come paint and dance, or help out in other ways, that would be the best. Thank you!

Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.

Picture me wearing that crazy hat…

1. Two spots left for the March Rally (Rally!). April is sold out. I believe there is one spot for May.
2. I want to highly recommend the Monster Manual & Coloring Book for working through stucknesses. A bunch of people reminded me this week of how much it has helped them. It helps me too. I use this material all the time.

That’s it for me …

Join my Friday ritual in the comments if you feel like it. Or call silent retreat!

We let people have their own experience. We’re supportive and welcoming. And we don’t give advice (unless people specifically ask for it).

Wishing you a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day, a restful weekend and a happy week to come.

Shabbat shalom.

p.s. It’s fine if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — join in whenever (or not) and it’s no big deal.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Friday Chicken #145: Potter? I hardly even know her.
• Friday Chicken #129: Drum roll! Doldrum roll! Sit. Roll!
• Friday Chicken #121: twenty won what?

“If you have ten people at a Rally, that’s fifteen thousand dollars. I’m wondering why you could need a donated DVD playing laptop when, with these costs, it could easily be afforded.”

It may be that his pain is showing up for him in this comment. We all have stuff.

But I’m also thinking it might be useful and important for people to have some context for what it actually costs to run an event like Rally (Rally!).

Because if anyone is imagining that I’m drinking daiquiris while reclining on top of a gigantic pile of fifteen thousand individual dollar bills…that is so very much not what’s happening.

There is no pile of money. Also I wouldn’t be caught dead ordering a daiquiri. But that’s beside the point.

Let’s talk about this. Let’s talk about what things cost.

Let’s talk about rent for the space where Rally happens.

Seven thousand dollars a month.

Add to that twelve thousand a year in utilities. So that’s a chunk right there.

Especially when you realize that sometimes Rally is the only thing that happens in a given month, and Rally doesn’t happen every month.

Also: ten people paying full price? Assume some people got Rallies as bonuses for other programs, someone we offered a trade to, someone on scholarship.

And staff. My company has three full-time employees, including me.

Even if I didn’t pay myself (and I tried this for several years — not a sustainable way to run a company, as I discovered), other people need to get paid.

Rally wouldn’t happen without them doing important work behind the scenes.

Rugs.

In a space where people are going to be sitting on the floor in five different rooms, you need a lot of rugs. An investment in the experience of Rally.

I’ve spent far more than $15,000 on rugs for the Playground. In fact, I don’t even want to think about how much we’ve invested in floor coverings of various kinds, or about how many years it could take before this space begins to pay for itself.

Rugs are vital to the space. They make the Playground comfy, cozy, colorful and magical. We roll around on them. We do old Turkish lady stretches on them. We nap and play on them. We spread our mysterious projects out on them.

But really, let’s talk about comfort.

Rugs alone do not create a comfortable environment for restorative play.

We have dozens of cushions in all shapes and sizes. Also endless blankets: for napping, snuggling, resting and making blanket forts. I’ve paid for all of these.

And as our programs grow, we keep getting more because having a Playground full of things to play with makes Rally even more magical.

Furniture.

Tables, large and small. Desks, large and small. Cubbies. Chairs. Hooks. Coat racks. Entry signs. Kitchen furnishings. Shelves and racks to hold costumes and art supplies. Furnishings for the Toy Shop.

I’ve put many thousands of dollars into furnishing the Playground, and it will take many, many Rallies to even begin to cover the cost of that investment.

There’s also money to rent a truck to deliver things. The time involved in getting people to help move furniture, and organizing that process.

Lighting.

I don’t know if you’ve ever had to provide lighting for a giant space, but wow. Fixtures. They’re expensive.

I have picked out and purchased seventeen lamps, beautiful ones, for the Playground. And we’ll need to acquire way more than that for the new space.

Appliances.

Refrigerator. Toaster. Vacuum cleaner. Water/Tea dispensers. Recycling bins. Trash cans. Ohmylord so many trash cans.

Let’s talk about the STAGE.

Teaching Shiva Nata to a large group requires a stage, because people need to be able to see you so they can mirror you.

We had to have one built to our specifications. And covered in carpet to work for yoga as well. Big complicated expensive project.

Paint and painting.

Walls. And floors. Several coats.

Buying all the paint. Time and energy for the actual painting. Touch-ups between Rallies, of course, because playing can get messy at times.

In the new space we’ll need to paint the entire thing because the previous tenant trashed it. So this week I dropped a thousand dollars on paint.

Supplies and materials for yoga.

Blocks. Straps. Blankets.

Basically, outfitting a yoga studio, because the Playground essentially needs to double as one during Rally for when we do yoga.

Supplies and materials for teaching.

White board. Flip chart. Markers.

Printing out handouts and worksheets. Printing out monster coloring books for people to color.

Supplies and materials for playing.

Art supplies. Endless art supplies. Costumes for the costume room. Pens and markers. Bottles of spray. Stone skipping cards.

Plus all the clews. Thousands of them, hidden throughout the Playground. And a fairy door. And a hula hoop. And magnets. Fun things that make the Playground feel special.

Let’s talk about food.

Snacks. We go through a lot of snacks. And the Wine and Cheesening.

But you know what else? Dishes. Utensils. Mugs and glasses. Tablecloths. Bottle openers, can openers, dishcloths, paper towels, all sorts of things that you don’t necessarily think about.

Luckily Rallions are very considerate and sweet — they often contribute snacks and extra bottles of wine, and they help with the dishes. But yes, having a Galley is not an insignificant expense.

Cleaning.

We hire a company to do a thorough cleaning before and after Rally. I put in several hours of cleaning the rest of the month.

I don’t really want to get into energetic cleaning, but I put time every single day into clearing out the Playground from other people’s stuff.

Other people who help the ship run, and who all get paid.

Our bookkeeper. Our accountant. We need an attorney. We have a realtor.

Occasionally we need to hire consultants to help with systems, organization, culture or expansion. This will help us financially in the long term, but right now it means we invest more than we make.

Unexpected expenses.

Like when the heating stopped working and we had to get space heaters.

Or when someone has an emergency and has to back out, and we’ve given them their money back but it’s too late to get someone else to come to that Rally.

Time.

Obviously there’s the week of running Rally. And the week of preparing for it. And the week of recovering from it and reviewing what worked and what didn’t.

But there’s also filling it.

And the years I spent building a community of people who care about this work, the years learning to write copy, the many years developing skills, systems, resources, materials. I may not ever be compensated for those years, but they’re incredibly important.

The Shop.

We’re fortunate to have several things there on consignment. But quite a lot of the items for sale in the Toy Shop we buy wholesale.

I’ve invested thousands of dollars into the shop, without any assurance that we’re going to make that money back. Or an idea of how long it might take.

So that’s money and risk. Risk is a big deal. It really deserves it’s own section.

Systems.

I spend about eight hours a week firming up systems and making systems changes. To pull off an event like Rally, there are hundreds of systems that all need to be running smoothly at all times. When there’s a hole, I’m the one in there patching it.

Let’s talk about the most important thing: RISK.

I am the sole provider in my household. I pay the mortgage. I support us.

So when I have a crazy idea like “hey, let’s rent a space and make it into a Playground for grown-ups to play and destuckify in, even though no one has ever done this before and there’s zero data to show that it could even work”, this isn’t just my risk. It’s all of us.

I had to talk my family into agreeing to let me try this. I’ve had to provide endless emotional hand-holding and reassurances. And they have to count on me and trust me. At times it has been really, really rough.

The burden and stress of financial and emotional risk in a venture like this cannot be underemphasized.

There’s other stuff too, of course.

Music and speakers. Signage. Flags. Flowers. Candles. Art. Volunteering. Stuffed animals. Time meeting with neighbors in the building, discussing how shared space can work, or dealing with grievances that they might have. Organizing maintenance. Interacting with contractors. It doesn’t really end.

What does all this mean?

There are four things that I want to be really clear about. Four things that I really deeply care about. I feel so strongly about this.

1. Always, always assume hidden costs.

Most of what is listed here are costs that you cannot see when you visit the Playground.

Or when you read about what happens at Rally (Rally!) or why it’s so amazing and life-changing.

This is true for nearly any business that you encounter. You won’t be able to see what someone has put into it. But if you pay attention, maybe you can feel it.

2. ALL OF THESE THINGS ARE WORTH IT.

I do not regret one penny that I’ve invested in making Rally an incredible life-changing experience. People come away with an entirely new relationship with themselves, their stuff, how to work, how to be with themselves. It’s all worth it.

But if you ever find yourself thinking WOW WHAT A SWEET GIG, you’re wrong. There is no sweet gig. Not this one.

There is blood, sweat and tears. And money. Lots and lots of money.

3. Anything can show you your stuff

Reading that comment showed me my stuff.

I got to see my deep fear of being misunderstood, of being judged or blamed as a result of that misunderstanding. Hi, core issue!

I got to see my fear of being seen as vulnerable or needy. My fear that no one can appreciate how hard I work. My fear that if I ask for help, I will be criticized.

That’s my stuff. My pain. And I have been using all of the tools that we play with here to interact with it and rewrite it.

And, of course, the person who left the comment could, if he chooses to, read his own hurt and pain patterns in it, and learn more about what’s there.

And you can see whatever pain or fear may have been stirred up for you, reading this piece. You can meet it with love. You can make safe rooms and remember that now is not then, and talk to your monsters. You can ask what is useful in this.

4. Community means we all help, to the best of our ability.

Even if I were swimming in money (which would be awesome and I can’t wait for that to happen so that we can do even more good for the world in magical ways), I would still hope that we’d all want to pitch in.

Because there is this tremendous power in coming together to create.

It’s such a healing for my hurting heart when I realize how much the people in my world want to help.

Yesterday at the Playground play day we held an Enthusiastic. We sang pirate songs and had brilliant ideas and rejoiced over the new space. Everyone asked when they could come and help paint. Or what they could do to be a part of this.

And I cried. Because you guys are amazing, and because it means everything to me that so many of you want to help and join in. This is what keeps me going on the hardest days, and on the days when my stuff keeps me from seeing how much love and support there is for what we’re doing here together.

The commenting blanket fort today.

We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff.

We take responsibility for our stuff. We let everyone else have their stuff.

Taking responsibility for your stuff means owning your pain and not putting it onto anyone else. That’s our starting point.

We don’t throw shoes. We support each other. And, of course, we’re not going to speculate on the commenter’s motivation or what his issues are. That’s between him and him, just like how my stuff is between me and me, and your stuff is between you and you.

Things that are welcome today:

Loving sighs. Appreciation. Noticing how much time, love and effort goes into everything that is around us, and into what we do as well.

Thank you.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Stories about the relationship between money and time. Part 1.
• To hell with transparency.
• Ask Havi #17: Another question about pain.

Each week I write these VPAs to practice asking for what I want. And to get clarity on what that really is, even when asking feels conflicted.

I always get useful information about my relationship with various aspects of the ask. Join in if you like!

Thing 1: Help coordinating a gigantic complicated project.

Here’s what I want:

So now that we have the new Playground space (YAY!), we have a crazy amount of work to do.

I’d thought this would mostly involve setting up the rooms, but the guy who left wasn’t happy about leaving and trashed the space completely.

It needs love and help. And a lot of paint.

We’re going to need lots of people. And also for people to bring materials. Like ladders. And drop cloths.

We’ll need people to move things and drill things and hold things.

And then we need a way to coordinate this whole gigantic project.

Ways this could work:

Maybe I could set up an event using our facebook page?

Maybe a Rally grad or friend of the Fluent Self in Portland will volunteer to coordinate this?

Maybe something else entirely?

I’ll play with…

Making the wish.

Working on the part that is my stuff — my disinclination to ask for help, my fear of vulnerability, my stuck around receiving.

Talking to my people and the roller derby team, because every time I see how excited people are to be a part of this, the more I realize that this is a community project. A project of LOVE.

And that’s a big deal.

So really this is two asks. One is for the help. And the other is to get better at receiving help.

Thing 2: Progress on the B&B&B.

Here’s what I want:

For a tiny sweet thing of mine to begin to take form and become a much bigger thing.

And for this to feel magical and tingly and exciting.

Ways this could work:

Rendezvous with Hope.

Taking it to the humming castle and singing to it.

Doing an OOD.

I’ll play with…

Talking to the monsters and finding out where our common ground is.

Thing 3: Let’s talk about CONTEXT.

Here’s what I want:

Oh man. I have a lot of things to say about a certain subject.

I would like to say them.

I would like to say them from the heart. Without judgment and without attachment.

From a loving, simple, grounded desire to give people context. Then they can do with that what they want.

And I would like this to happen in the most harmonious way possible.

Ways this could work:

Taking notes.

Doing Shiva Nata on it.

I’ll play with…

Putting it here as a placeholder.

Thing 4: Answers.

Here’s what I want:

Last week I wanted to devote some time to answering a question, and then that didn’t happen.

I set aside the time for processing, but then one of my people had a freakout, and I gave my time to that person’s freakout.

This really needs to get resolved before Rally, and I’m noticing that I’m feeling a little anxious about it.

So how can we do this?

Ways this could work:

Wednesday?

I’ll play with…

Reflecting on it.

Remembering why this is so important to me.

Finding out why it’s useful that I haven’t been able to do this yet.

Thing 5: Easy speediness!

Here’s what I want:

Last week I had a lot of this quality. And I want it again.

For example, I was able to write the Friday Chicken in forty five minutes instead of it taking hours.

Or I was able to get massive amounts of things done in tiny amounts of time, using nests and the chrysalis. Or by listening to the Director, and letting her tell me what to do.

Anyway, more of that please!

Ways this could work:

Focusing on this during my daily glow-sitting. Shhh, don’t tell the monsters that it’s actually meditation.

Using the beads.

Being clear that this is what I want.

I’ll play with…

Skipping lots of stones with the Director, and asking her questions.

Thing 6: ROLLER DERBY BOUT THIS SATURDAY NIGHT YOU GUYS!

Here’s what I want:

If you’re in Portland, please show up at the bout this Saturday night and sit with me. I’ll be the tall one in the outlandish hot pink wig, and some sort of crazy complicated get-up, probably black and pink and zebra striped. If you can’t find me, I’m probably doing the Shiva Nata warm-up for my team, so wait a few minutes and try again.

I know people feel weird about approaching me, but I’m really sweet. And so is everyone else there. You belong. So please come.

And obviously you’re rooting for my Guns N Rollers, so do not wear green or gold under any circumstances.

Bout goes six to eight. Doors open at five. Be there early. Do not be shy about introducing yourself. I mean, be as shy as you want, but talk to me. I’m happy to answer derby-related questions and explain what’s going on.

Be prepared for a really exciting bout, and to possibly lose your voice from yelling. And your mind from awesome.

Tickets are $14 and totally worth it. And you get to know you’re supporting the league and our amazing athletes.

Ways this could work:

I can put an announcement on the facebook page.

I can tell you guys here.

I’ll play with…

Wishing my wish for joyful, fun, exuberant community and shared experiences.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.

Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.

Let’s see. I wanted a chrysalis and I got one. It was amazing. Infinitely more amazing than I’d imagined it ever could be.

I wanted secret invisible Playground play days, and yay! We had nine people at the one on Wednesday, and we’re having the Enthusiastic this Toozday. Love it.

Then I wanted to do something fun for Tu B’shvat, and that happened too.

A big thing I wanted was to write the answers. And that did not happen. So I’m rethinking that ask.

And I wanted to close a bunch of doors, and that didn’t really happen either. I’ll sit with that and see what comes up. All in all, feeling good.

Play-filled comment zen. Here’s what I’d love today.

• Wanted: Your own personal ads, small or large. Updates on past ones if you like.
• You can also do these on your own or in your head. You can always call silent retreat!
• Leave your gwishes! Throw things in the pot!
• Things we try to keep away from: the word “manifest”, telling people how they should be asking for things, unsolicited advice.
• VPA amnesty applies, of course. Leave yours any time between now and next Sunday (or whenever, really) — it’s all fine by us!

xox

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Very Personal Ads #133: doobie doo just filling something out
• Sweetness for coming-in me.
• Friday Chicken #109: there’s nothing funnier than being afraid of plums

And you get to join in if you feel like it.

You guys!

We signed the lease this week. FOR THE NEW PLAYGROUND!

Which has kind of had the effect of erasing everything else from my brain.

Let’s see what else happened. In this incredibly wondrous week of lease-signing!

The hard stuff

Sometimes people say cruel, hurtful or ignorant things.

They don’t mean to be mean.

Which can sometimes make it hurt even more.

Sometimes people don’t take responsibility for their stuff.

And then they try to hand it over to you.

This is not fun.

Sometimes it’s also really awful.

Two different people felt the need to dump their pain on me this week in two very different situations.

And then they each wanted me to agree to take responsibility for their pain.

That part actually bothered me more than the pain-dumping. Own your stuff, people.

Matching pain.

In one of these situations, someone else’s hurt was a good match for my hurt, and so our hurts interacted. His pain reminded me of my pain.

The result of this experience was that I got really disconnected from myself and from the thing that needed my attention.

In the second situation, the other person’s pain did not at all trigger my pain, and I was able to respond compassionately to her.

But that still took the better part of a work day, and I have pain about that.

And I’m also experiencing pain related to how deeply I want to see people putting the skills that I teach into practice. Because when people can take loving ownership for the fact that their stuff is their stuff, which is the essence of sovereignty and lives at the heart of so much of my work, they don’t need to blame or lash out. But when they can’t get there, I perceive that my teaching hasn’t landed yet.

My stuff. Working on it.

Getting myself into a situation I couldn’t get out of.

Like the fox in the video game, I needed an exit, but I didn’t like any of the available ones.

Not going to do that again.

There should really be a name for this phenomenon.

Someone I dearly love had a bit of a meltdown and let it leak into my space.

Or really: I was the one who let it leak into my space. But only after it was intentionally brought to me in a form that I didn’t need to receive it in.

Meeting someone in their pain and setting loving boundaries at the same time is really hard.

Things that worked really well then are not what is needed now.

That was a big theme this week.

Someone said something to me that they did not need to say to me.

And then I cried for three hours.

Because my biggest stuck-fear-core-issue-thing is the fear of being misunderstood (and that tragic things that my monsters are sure will happen as a result).

This was a giant case of someone misunderstanding my business, and that was painful.

The good stuff

Effortless efficiency.

Things got done this week.

With magic and ease, just like the Director said they would.

The chrysalis.

I removed all the obstacles, and made it happen.

Three days and three nights of communing with the Director.

This was the most incredible thing I’ve ever done.

She said that we would be connected when it was over, and she was right.

Steady internal guidance.

The Director was with me all week, telling me what needed to happen.

She was right every single time.

It makes decision making way easier when you already know which way you’re internally pointing, you know?

All the right people.

An entire crew came together.

Four nights. Of uninterrupted sleep. In a row. YES!

Knock on wood.

May this beautiful thing that is sleeping again just continue to be present and make my life easier.

Giant shivanautical epiphanies.

Lots of Shiva Nata this week.

And lots of brilliant sparkly ideas, followed by deep realizations about why.

SIGNING THE LEASE!

The new Playground space is ours!

It is stunningly beautiful. It is exactly what I dreamed and more.

It is massive. It is magic. It is the culmination of the last several years of internal work and practice. It shines and hums and glows. It breathes love.

And, just like in those dreams where your house has extra hidden rooms, it has an extra hidden room that I had thought was just a tiny storage closet. Yes.

The superpower of Nothing Is Wrong.

So the guy who vacated the new Playground really did a number on the place.

Breaking a bunch of windows taking out air conditioning units, ripping out light fixtures, stuff like that.

But I invoked the superpower of Nothing Is Wrong, and stayed calm.

And then nothing was wrong! The owner of the building is putting in new and nicer windows, and also letting us come up with the new lighting concept.

I remembered that things can work out well. I didn’t go into my default “oh crap oh crap why does this always happen to me” stuff. I made safe rooms for me-from-then, back when things really were wrong.

And throughout the week I kept noticing dozens of things that seemed like bad news whooshing themselves into good news. Still shaking my head over this. It was awesome.

Everything from The Crossing is coming true.

In October I ran a program at the Playground called Crossing the Line: the 8 Day Voyage. Password: haulaway

It was the most incredible thing I have ever taught, and some seriously indescribably miraculous experiences happened there.

But there were two big wishes that I planted there and played with: one was getting this space, and the other was the superpower of Nothing Is Wrong. Really and truly knowing that everything is going to be fine, even the things that don’t seem fine.

So this week both of those things came into full effect.

I planted. They showed up.

And now I can’t wait to find out what’s going to happen next.

Tu B’shvat and the secret Day of Play.

Wednesday was the birthday of the trees!

We had nine wonderful Rally (Rally!) graduates playing at the Playground Caboose (which is what we’re now calling the original Playground).

We ate dates and figs and almonds and hazelnuts. We played with our projects. We napped little naps.

It was beautiful.

And THEN something completely unexpected happened.

I took everyone from the play day on a tour of the new Playground space.

Because these were exactly the people I would want to get to see it first.

We each took a stick of incense and wandered through the space, writing qualities and drawing symbols on the walls and in the air. Whispering secret words of love.

Then we stood in a circle and sang to the Playground.

We sang a song from Rally, and our voices reverberated through the giant empty space, filling it with love until our adoration touched every corner.

If there were words to describe how intense of an experience this was, I would use them now. But I can’t.

I’ll just say that this was one of those transformative Moments.

We sounded like a choir of angels. It felt like the whole building was singing back to us. I will remember this moment forever.

And more Shiva Nata.

Because why not.

I taught a crazy fun-hard-fun workshop for the Guns N Rollers last night, and they were awesome.

Epiphanies to follow!

Playing live at the meme beach house — it’s the Fake Band of the Week!

Background? Ez and I make up bands. Stu (retired Bolshevik-fearing voice-to-text software) once translated “people will hate me and be jealous” to “they’ll hang out at my Meme Beach House“. It’s just one guy.

This week’s band is for my new favorite bartender.

Missing Kat

They have sort of a rockabilly sound, and they’re super fun.

Though, of course, as you might have already guessed, it turns out that it’s really just one guy.

Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.

Picture me wearing that crazy hat…

1. The February Rally (Rally!) is sold out. There are a couple of spots in March. The new Playground won’t be officially open yet, but I’ll give you a tour and we’ll play there too!
2. We have a Facebook page for The Fluent Self — it’s a pretty fun place, full of lovely people. I would love it if you would hang out with us there too: Facebook.com/TheFluentSelf.
3. The whisper-brunch is happening for the second-ever Crossing the Line: the 8 Day Voyage! (password: haulaway). We’ve already had quite a lot of applicants. Also: I highly recommend signing up before I have a chance to put up the Over The Moonials from last year.

That’s it for me …

Join my Friday ritual in the comments if you feel like it. Or call silent retreat!

We let people have their own experience. We’re supportive and welcoming. And we don’t give advice (unless people specifically ask for it).

Wishing you a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day, a restful weekend and a happy week to come.

Shabbat shalom.

p.s. It’s fine if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — join in whenever (or not) and it’s no big deal.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Tiny bits of wisdom
• Hi there, qualities of the voyage that is 2012.
• Friday Chicken #176: no trombones this time. Except that sad one.

For three days and three nights.

And she was right. As she invariably is.

Her track record of being right is pretty stellar.

So I listened.

And then, from deep inside of the chrysalis (which turned out to be a very sexy hotel room), I listened some more.

What do you wish I knew about your mission?

That was one of the questions I asked the Director.

Hoping that she wouldn’t mind being interviewed.

Her mission is mysterious and puzzling to me at times. Her devotion to me and my happiness is unflagging. Her passions are deep and all-encompassing. Being near her is both a wild rush and indescribably calming at the same time.

I love the Director. I love her and I can’t wait to become her, and a good deal of the time I don’t understand her.

Not yet. So I asked.

Here is what the Director said:

My biggest wish is for you to be able to enjoy the fruits of the unique culture that you have created for others.

Look at what you have made.

You have given birth to an impossibly beautiful and exceptional world of permission, safety, delight, wonder, sanctuary, fun, creative play, acceptance, belonging, grace, silliness, power, trust, curious and loving exploration, magic.

But you do not partake of it. Not really and truly. Not to its depth.

You give it. You set it up. But for others.

You make rooms of amnesty for their questions and their pain. You make peaceful Refueling Stations for them to hide in and blanket forts for them to create in, but where is this world for you?

You were the one. You are the one person who really and truly knew how to dream up this magical world and then make it a living reality. You were the one who could give it a home.

And not just any home, but the best and craziest and most fabulously outlandish home ever.

You know the most about this particular kind of magical world of play and exploration and sanctuary because of how desperately you needed it to exist.

But you still give it away instead of living in it yourself.

You create cultures where it’s the norm that sovereign compassion is readily available for each person there but then sometimes you still allow yourself to be the exception. As if you’re saying that it’s still okay for other people to put their crap on you because you’re the one who’s strong enough to handle it.

Sweetie, this world you have made is for you.

The world and culture of magical permission, safety and play is for you.

I want you to live in it. To soak it up.

I want you to breathe it.

To be at home in it.

And for this to be the norm. Not an occasional blissful perk.

I see you buying presents for me, doing sweet things so that I will feel welcome, and that’s a lovely thought.

The thing is, I do feel welcome. Always. That’s just part of being the Director. I am welcome in my world.

It’s you who doesn’t realize yet that you’re welcome too.

I want you to do sweet things for you.

Not as a way of investing in the future. Well, yes, obviously it is investing in the future. But what I would really like to see is you investing in the future through investing in you-now.

And not just so that you’ll become me.

But because you-now are worthy of living in ways that are congruent and harmonious with the culture of the world you want to live in.

Like it or not, you are the Director.

You’re the director of an organization, the owner of a successful business, both online and a physical bricks-and-mortar space. You’re the CEO of a company that you built from nothing, a company that does amazing things in the world. You’re a creative, talented, unconventional, innovative woman in her mid-30s who knows how to make stuff happen. It is unbearable that you do not realize this.

What would happen if you acted like it, instead of pretending that there’s distance between you and this person that you already are?

I want the day to arrive…

I want the day to arrive when you want to act like it.

When you’re comfortable being gorgeous, fabulous, strong, courageous, successful, radiant, humming your happy hum.

End transmission.

And then she told me to look left.

I said, now?

And she said: NOW!

And I looked left, and saw the exact thing I needed to see.

She told me lots of things while I was in the chrysalis.

What to ask. Who to talk to.

Where to have a drink, and why it was important not to bring my notebook.

She introduced me to all the right people.

We did hours and hours of old Turkish lady yoga in the dark.

We whispered secrets and ate surprisingly delicious snacks. We turned our breath into vibrating light. We hummed the magical hum until it hummed down into our toes.

I said, now?

And she said: NOW!

Playing in the commenting blanket fort.

The Director is a version of slightly future me.

Sharing internal dialogue and internal process is an exquisitely vulnerable experience. Much like a tiny, sweet thing that is just coming into the world, it requires gentleness, protection and a peaceful environment.

If you would like to Enthuse with me about how I, as the Director, signed the lease for the new Playground space yesterday, that is very welcome. Or if you’d like to hum… :)

(We now have about 7500 square feet of incredible space for creative play, for Rallies and for exciting new ventures and adventures that are in the works).

If you would like to talk to slightly future you or hold internal investigations of your own, this is always a safe space to do that. As always, there is no need to do it out loud. Calling silent retreat is fine.

We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. So if your stuff comes up, own it. Create safe rooms for yourself.

We make this a loving space by giving people room to have their own experience, taking responsibility for our experience, and not giving advice.

Love to all the commenter mice, the Beloved Lurkers and everyone who reads.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Friday Chicken #185: You know what’s fun to say? Caboose!
• Friday Chicken #174: Poor me, a cup! Pour me a cup!
• Friday Chicken #168.5: accidental wormhole (not a band!)

Each week I write these VPAs to practice asking for what I want. And to get clarity on what that really is, even when asking feels conflicted.

I always get useful information about my relationship with various aspects of the ask. Join in if you like!

Oh man, big stuff is happening!

We have a date to sign the lease this week for the new Playground space.

(The current Playground is still going strong, the second one is bigger and crazier and will be the home for a fabulous new thing.)

We have a date to start painting.

Everything is moving. It is all very exciting/terrifying/wonderful. Anyway…. hello, week! Hello, very personal ads. I really need this.

Thing 1: Creating, entering and exiting a chrysalis.

Here’s what I want:

Yesterday my morning glow-sitting (that’s what metaphor mouse and I call “meditation”) informed me very emphatically that I need a chrysalis.

I may possibly have rolled my eyes.

More specifically:

It seems I have crossed some very significant internal bridges over the past few weeks, and now the Director and I are very close. The Director is the version of me who can run the new and gigantic Playground Cooperative that we’re opening.

She’s calm, capable, competent, confident, wickedly funny and completely, delightfully, unapologetically sure about what she wants.

She has the superpower of knowing that Nothing Is Wrong and that perfect simple solutions are there for the asking. She wears awesome shoes.

We’re really close to each other now. And the thing that’s needed is the biggest and most important step:

A safe and sturdy CONTAINER of three days and three nights of complete seclusion, during which I become her and she becomes me. Or really, I become more her and she becomes more me. Anyway, it’s a chrysalis.

Apparently this is what I get for thinking that a nest might be too over the top. Great. Something even more cheesy and dramatic. I find this hilarious.

Ways this could work:

I can do an OOD about this and get the monsters onboard.

The monsters are seriously skeptical about the whole thing, which is a sign that yes, it *is* as crazy as it sounds and also it’s important.

I could decide to go dark.

I could check into the Hidden Hotel.

We’re going to need tools. So tools!

I’ll play with…

Assuming that this is important and that it does need to happen.

Because information delivered via glow sitting always turns out to be worth listening to. As rigorous internal studies have shown.

And committing to finding a way.

Thing 2: Shhhh secretive invisible Playground play days.

Here’s what I want:

Today I’m telling twenty people — twenty people who live near the Playground and have already rallied so they know how to have strong force fields – about two invisible secret play days happening at the Playground this month.

One of which will include an Enthusiastic. Yay!

I am hoping that some of these beautiful people will be able to join me in playtime magic, even though it’s super last minute.

Because the Director said that this was the first step. And that it’s VERY important.

Wenn schon denn schon. Im kvar az kvar.

Ways this could work:

I’m making the wish and putting it here.

I’ll play with…

Resting in the hammock in the Playground’s Refueling Station.

Visiting the new Playground space and the current Playground space (soon to be the Playground Caboose), and talking to them about play.

Thing 3: Tu B’shvat

Here’s what I want:

This Wednesday is Tu B’shvat.

Tu B’shvat is the birthday of the trees.

Isn’t that completely delightful and magical and play-worthy? I think so too!
I want to celebrate.

Ways this could work:

Secret play day at the Playground, of course.

Dates and figs and almonds.

Visit the park.

Ask the trees.

I’ll play with…

Writing a love letter.

Like the one I wrote EXACTLY two years ago to the current Playground.

I just reread that one and did you know? Everything came true, only a million times better than I could have possibly imagined.

Thing 4: Answering the questions.

Here’s what I want:

I have some questions that I’m sitting with right now.

They need time and space.

I need time and space.

I want safe ways to go inward and investigate.

I want time and a process.

Ways this could work:

The chrysalis could resolve this.

A cafe date.

Planting the wish.

I’ll play with…

Doing Shiva Nata on it and generating some creative epiphanies.

Thing 5: Closing all the doors.

Here’s what I want:

There are still more things that need closing.

Still more doors that don’t need to be open.

Let’s move on this.

Ways this could work:

Lots of stone skippings.

Asking curious, loving questions. Patiently.

I’ll play with…

Asking for help from a Negotiator.

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.

Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.

I had an ask about reconciling my desire for seclusion with my desire for community. Progress! Feeling good about the upcoming Enthusiastic and play days, and about my chrysalis as things that have emerged from last week’s ask.

Also I noticed that this week it was much easier to give time to Emptying and Replenishing, which gave me more space for being with people.

I wanted more overlap between the blog world and the PDX world and my roller derby world. Nothing to report on that but as the next bout gets closer I will update.

Then I wanted to fill out more forms (shhh, that’s secret agent code for doing yoga), and, ASTONISHINGLY, I forgot that I asked this. But I filled out forms like mad all week. So it totally worked. Yay. I re-ask this one, because it’s been amazing.

Next I wanted ERM (Emergency Recovery Mode), and that worked too! I feel terrific. And everything came together to help.

And I wanted to tell you guys about the end of Early Brunch for the Floating Playground. And I did. Today is the last day you can get half off tuition. We’re close to full. Maybe I will see you there.

Play-filled comment zen. Here’s what I’d love today.

• Wanted: Your own personal ads, small or large. Updates on past ones if you like.
• You can also do these on your own or in your head. You can always call silent retreat!
• Leave your gwishes! Throw things in the pot!
• Things we try to keep away from: the word “manifest”, telling people how they should be asking for things, unsolicited advice.
• VPA amnesty applies, of course. Leave yours any time between now and next Sunday (or whenever, really) — it’s all fine by us!

xox

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Friday Chicken #185: You know what’s fun to say? Caboose!
• Friday Chicken #184: speedy mouse zips around in circles.
• Very Personal Ads #133: doobie doo just filling something out

And you get to join in if you feel like it.

Hey, Friday. Good to see you.

I’m getting better at remembering how this works.
Slowly, slowly.

Friday is picking up the Mercury. Friday is closing tabs. Friday is stretching to candlelight. I like you, Friday.

The hard stuff

The weekend.

The weekend was just really, really hard.

I’m going to silent retreat on the details, but hard hard hard hard.

Things that are lost and keep staying lost.

What an awful feeling.

Especially when you’re beyond beyond beyond beyond tired. Because then you can’t even begin to retrace your steps or figure out where something lost might be, or if it ever was there to begin with.

Not having a document that I need.

And then uncovering an old, painful stuck pattern at play that I totally thought was taken care of.

Not feeling strong.

There’s a certain vibrancy or vitality that cannot be present during depletion, and this is not fun for me.

My body really wants to move, and it’s also not ready to yet.

See also: that one dance class where I single-handedly demonstrated what it looks like to crash and burn ridiculously hard in public. With style!

When one thing isn’t working with my body, all the other forms and structures that hold my life together change too. Still trying to figure this one out. Getting closer, but sometimes close isn’t enough.

An uncomfortable realization.

It doesn’t translate well.

But basically….

Things are like this! I want them to be like that! But this is not news! But I still don’t like it! But I haven’t found a way out yet!

So this is what I’ll be playing with this week. Skipping stones, writing an OOD, finding out what I need to move through this.

The good stuff

The lost things found themselves.

They just appeared.

It was bizarre, but I am happy about it.

The superpower of Not Being Even Slightly Worried About Anything.

It didn’t come in the form that I was hoping for, but it’s still a really big deal.

At least now I know what that feels like. And the next step is to recreate that sensation without the accompanying tired.

Better news than I had even dared to hope for.

The bully from the Playground building is gone.

For good.

And I didn’t even have to do anything.

He removed himself.

The lease for the new space: it is so very close to signing!

Everything is looking great. The last round of lease negotiations went well, and I am feeling very excited. YAY!

Physical therapy.

That’s what Metaphor Mouse has me calling massage lately, so that I’ll actually set it up and make it happen.

Anyway, I had a spectacularly great physical therapy session this week.

Related: metaphor mousing saved my week.

I got lots of metaphor help this week, and it changed everything.

Meditation (something I love but often avoid) is now glow sitting.

LIstening to a yoga nidra recording is now internal sparkling.

Playlists for teaching are now secret soundtracks.

The process of “setting expectations” is now coming into the Practice Studio.

Anyway, metaphor mouse is how I got things done this week. And now I’m doing more of what I like, since changing all the names.

Spending time with my body and giving it loving attention.

A gorgeous partner yoga session (with Danielle as my partner).

Long, slow, old Turkish lady yoga at the Playground.

Magical, deep, circular yoga using symbols and words, also at the Playground. Something I invented after doing Shiva Nata. It was beautiful.

Progress.

Learning much more about how I want to live.

And about what needs to change.

Coming up with the perfect metaphor for that.

A brilliant session with Carolyn (remember when we had hackers?), and then help from Cairene too.

Also this helped me put up my castle in the Wish Room, and that made everything better.

Presents for the Playground!

Thank you thank you, everyone.

Extra thank yous to Laura and Foxy Jess!

The fun part of the Chickening happens here.

From the archives.

Some old, weirdly pertinent posts that I don’t remember having written, encountered while looking for something else:

1. I am Resistance Mouse!.
2. The second time I got fired.

Playing live at the meme beach house — it’s the Fake Band of the Week!

Background? Ez and I make up bands. Stu (retired Bolshevik-fearing voice-to-text software) once translated “people will hate me and be jealous” to “they’ll hang out at my Meme Beach House“. It’s just one guy.

This week’s band is brought to you by Max, who is amazing, and who was at the last Rally (Rally!).

Sequencing the Chipmunk Genome.

They’re really loud. Except when they’re not.

And yes, rest assured that it’s really just one guy.

Hallo Hallo! I am saying Hallo Hallo. Announcement time.

Picture me wearing that crazy hat…

1. You still have a chance to make it to a Rally (Rally!) in either March or June. Or September. Pretty much everything else is sold out.
2. There’s still HALF OFF on tuition for the magical Floating Playground. Good through February 5. That’s already Sunday, impossible as that sounds. Being at the Floop will be like Rallying Rally all the time.

That’s it for me …

Join my Friday ritual in the comments if you feel like it. Or call silent retreat!

We let people have their own experience. We’re supportive and welcoming. And we don’t give advice (unless people specifically ask for it).

Wishing you a glorrrrrrrrrrrrious day, a restful weekend and a happy week to come.

Shabbat shalom.

p.s. It’s fine if it’s not Friday anymore. There’s complete chicken amnesty — join in whenever (or not) and it’s no big deal.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Friday Chicken #77: battle of the fake bands
• Friday Check-in #26: Abridged edition
• Friday Check-in #20: Snowpocalypse edition

I don’t think I’ve ever been this excited to see you, February.

Partly because this past January kicked my ass so hard that I’m excited about change in any form whatsoever. And partly because you are a symbol of incredibly special things that are happening in my life.

But anyway, I’m really glad you’re here. I’m really glad I’m here.

And maybe we can even rewrite some of the sticking points we’ve had in our relationship in the past. Who knows? Anything is possible.

Hi.

Let’s talk superpowers.

First, the superpowers of January that I want to take with me.

So yes, January hit like a giant train wreck in a lot of ways. And making my way through that experience has landed me some serious superpowers.

Here are the ones I’m planning on keeping:

The superpower of Not Worrying About Anything.

I got to this one by way of being so completely exhausted and depleted that worrying about things just seemed like another tiring activity that I didn’t have energy for.

So I’m taking the freedom of that. Taking the feeling of Peace Breathes Through Me that comes from extreme zombie tired, without taking the tired and the non-functioning.

And I’m also taking the superpowers of Flexibly Structured Morning & Evening Rituals. And the superpowers of Being Exceedingly Cautious And Discerning About What Input I Allow Into My Space.

The superpowers I’d like to experience in February.

The superpower of feeling joyful and generous.

The superpower of wanting what I want. Unapologetically.

The superpower of CONGRUENCE.

The superpower of emptying and replenishing, so that play can be really playful.

Things I’m looking forward to in February.

February is the birthday of the trees!

February is stomping through puddles in the park in my BOOTS!

February is getting ready for Now We Are Six, the birthday celebrations of The Fluent Self, Inc, magical pirate ship at large.

February is new systems.

February has Rally (Rally!).

February (this February) is the DAY OF LEAP! That’s the day that the Floating Playground finally opens. That’s the day that we have access to the new and much bigger space for the real Playground. All the good things! They are happening!

And then it’s March. And March is spring. For me.

Things I’m feeling apprehensive about in February (and my plan!)

Ugh Valentine’s Day, ugh ugh ugh.

That pretty much sums it up.

The plan? Avoid the internet at all costs. Maybe also have an open Play Day at the Playground where other Fluent Self mice can hang out. Do some Shiva Nata on LOVE, because love is amazing.

And just generally avoid the annoying pink-romantic-straight-culture overkill.

Sleep please please please please.

I am crazy determined to outdo my current record of two whole nights in a row of uninterrupted sleep.

The plan? Keep doing what I’m doing. Stone skipping, yoga nidra, tea, ritual, support, practice.

The big change.

Things are changing, and it’s big.

The plan? Mission-ready. Mission-ready. Mission-ready. And lots of breaks. Entry and exit.

Things I would like to experience in February.

Harmonious interactions.

Spaciousness and blanket forts.

Choosing carefully. Preparing for the voyage.

Excitement and glee about where this is all going.

Trust and permission.

Silliness and movement.

Clues and allies for February.

You know how I like to go searching for clews.

So here are five that I am choosing for February, without having to figure out what they mean yet or how they’re going to work together.

1. The money tree in the kitchen.
2. The hidden castle.
3. The Cascadia flag.
4. The anchor
5. The color YELLOW.

And five resources or allies:

1. Barbara Sher.
2. Suzette Haden Elgin.
3. Michelle Marlahan.
4. Keren.
5. The gnome.

Here we go. Flipping the page.

Here’s the February image from the Playground calendar.

Play with me? And comment zen for today.

You are welcome to write your own Hello, February.

You could write February a letter, drop off some gwishes, or give it a new name.

(If you like, peek at other months — July and August and September and October and November and December and January.)

We all have our stuff. We’re all working on our stuff. We take responsibility for our stuff. Because without sovereignty and spaciousness, this whole thing falls apart.

And we make this a safe space by not telling each other what to do, how to be or how to feel. We make room for each other.

Wishing you the most beautiful and supportive February that could possibly be.

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• When things aren’t working.
• Friday Chicken #182: I believe in sandwich gnomes.
• Very Personal Ads #131: whoah-struck!

Each week I write these VPAs to practice asking for what I want. And to get clarity on what that really is, even when asking feels conflicted.

I always get useful information about my relationship with various aspects of the ask. Join in if you like!

Thing 1: Outward and inward and outward and inward.

Here’s what I want:

All of my gwishes this week seem to be about my desire for community, and about my desire for seclusion.

I am convinced that these are not even slightly contradictory, and that they support each other in important ways, so I want to spend some time investigating.

Ways this could work:

I can make lists of things that symbolize community for me, as well as things that stand for separation, withdrawing and turning inward.

And I can practice things on both sides.

Some old Turkish lady yoga for inward. Convening an Enthusiastic for outward.

Also some shivanautical epiphanies could just make everything clear and obvious. Or at least show me what the next step is.

I’ll play with…

Giving permission.

Practicing the art of wanting what I want.

Thing 2: Speaking of community…

Here’s what I want:

Okay, so I talk about roller derby all the time.

About my relationship to derby. About how outrageously great it is.

And I also know a trillion people in Portland. Or maybe I don’t know all of them personally yet, but they know me through this blog. Hi, lovely people!

I want all of us going to bouts and yelling our heads off and having the time of our lives. YES.

Ways this could work:

Maybe I’ll set up a pre-bout meet-up.

Kay’s bar, anyone? Maybe?

That way, people who would like to come watch roller derby with me could meet up with me beforehand.

I’m more than happy to explain the rules or why a penalty is a penalty. And I promise I won’t try to recruit you. Unless you want me to.

Probably the Frolicsome Bar (that’s what we call our facebook page) would be the best place to set up an event like this and let people know. But maybe there’s another way that I haven’t thought of yet.

I’ll play with…

Planting the wish.

Possibly doing an OOD on it.

Thing 3: Filling out more forms. Yes.

Here’s what I want:

Filling out forms is my secret agent code for doing old Turkish lady poses.

Because that’s literally what you’re doing.

Filling. Out. A. Form.

Except it sounds so incredibly boring to fill out forms that my monsters don’t make a fuss the way they would if I were doing something sweet and loving like shhhhhh-slow-gentle-yoga.

This week I would like to fill out lots and lots of forms.

Maybe just one at a time. Maybe at different points during the day.

Ways this could work:

Paul’s non-sucky dvd, of course.

Using the Playground.

Before bed.

After Shiva Nata.

In between transitions and doors.

I’ll play with…

Inventing a superpower to go along with this.

Thing 4: Erm…

Here’s what I want:

Extreme Recovery Mode. Aka Erm!

Which, coincidentally, is also the sound I make right before I remember to yell “Silent Retreat!”

(And then I run away.)

Ways this could work:

Baths.

Soaking in hot pools.

Massage.

Not everything requires a response.

Hiding.

I’ll play with…

Going dark.

Ten breaths.

Permission and amnesty.

Thing 5: The Floating Playground! The last day for Early Brunch.

Here’s what I want:

This weekend is the last chance for extreme Early Brunch prices on the Floating Playground.

I want everyone who wants to be a part of the Floop (yes, that’s its nickname, apparently) to joyfully find their way there.

Ways this could work:

I’m telling you right now.

I’ll play with…

Putting the link here: http://TheFluentSelf.com/floating

Creating a supportive, creative environment of welcoming and belonging for everyone who wants to play. Yay!

Progress report on past Very Personal Ads.

Just to update you on what’s happened since last time.

Let’s see. I wanted an old laptop to play DVDs on at the Playground, and a bunch of you were crazy helpful! Still sorting out the details, but yay people who can help! That was amazing.

Then I wanted to focus on making eating beautiful. That was challenging, but it definitely showed up. I was more conscious about which plates to choose and how to arrange things. It’s on my mind. Progress.

The Playground (the live one, which is about to expand to a much larger space) needs ongoing art supplies, and I said I’d think about that. I liked Anna’s suggestion of an arts & crafts potluck picnic. We’ll have to see what that would look like. I might write a future ask on specifics.

I wanted smoothness with the lease, and the building’s owners agreed to all of the changes we wanted to make in the last round of lease negotiations, HOORAY!

And I asked for a joyful Rally (Rally!), and it was extremely, extremely full of joy. Yet again, the VPAs sneakily make everything better under the surface while I’m not paying attention.

Play-filled comment zen. Here’s what I’d love today.

• Wanted: Your own personal ads, small or large. Updates on past ones if you like.
• You can also do these on your own or in your head. You can always call silent retreat!
• Leave your gwishes! Throw things in the pot!
• Things we try to keep away from: the word “manifest”, telling people how they should be asking for things, unsolicited advice.
• VPA amnesty applies, of course. Leave yours any time between now and next Sunday (or whenever, really) — it’s all fine by us!

xox

If this seemed like your thing, you might like these too:

• Friday Chicken #95: chickens on skates!
• Very Personal Ads #135: boutfit boutfit boutfit
• Community.